Once a Season
by Saitaina R. Moricia
Summary: One year, two lives, one heartache.


It was snowing the day he died, crisp, cold, a flaky touchy to the bloody scene. Roy knelt down and brushed a lock of pure golden hair away from the untouched face, gloved thumb brushing over those petal soft lips before standing, turning away with a swirl of his coat. He started to walk, boots crunching over the fresh fallen snow as he moved past his men, brushing off their words, their hands. He climbed into his car and gave a nod to the driver, not looking back at the gathering knot as he was slowly driven away, a tear winding it's way slowly down his cheek.

It rained the day he was buried, the freshly dug earth filling the air with it's clean, damp scent. Perfect weather for the burial of an alchemist. From the earth one rose and to the earth they would return. The soil welcoming back the body it once produced.

Al leaned heavily against the trunk of a tree, Major Armstrong supporting his other side, the only man capable of it. Hawkeye wondered what would happen when both men crashed to the earth. She just hopped no small children were nearby.

Her gaze flittered over the surrounding crowd, wanting to smile in-spite of her tears. Edward had been an amazing kid, and it showed in the people who came to pay their respects. He had touched everyone in some way.

Speaking of touching, she glanced at the Colonel, watching his shadowed face as he stood, proud and strong, no emotion on the parts of his face visible under his hat. She was used to that look, they all wore it time and again, when the grief was too much to show. She wore it when she put her sister in the earth, wanting instead to fling herself on the grave and dig the woman back up, wanting to cling to the empty shell.

She reached out and let her fingers brush over his shoulder, brushing off a fleck of invisible dust, a silent touch that was more then the shortness of the action. She placed her hat back on her head and turned with the rest of the mourners, heading away from the grave, making her way to the Major and Al, arriving just as both men collapsed, shaking her head and kneeling next to Al, simply laying her head on his metal shoulder.

It was windy, the day madness claimed him. A cold, biting wind that made you long for the worst a season could offer you instead of this…chill. It blinded your eyes and drove you slowly insane as it whirled about like a dancer who forgot the music.

Roy stared at the bottom of his whiskey bottle before flinging it across the room, watching it shatter with an amused smile gracing his lips. He turned away from the flittering shards to stare into the flames, dancing in the fireplace, reflecting back the images confusing his mind's eye. He brushed a finger slowly over his lips before raising his eyes up, staring at the man haunting him, consuming him. "You always swore you would dance on my grave…a happy little jig to the tune "The Bastard is Dead"…you were supposed to fulfill that promise."

He stood angrily, shoving his chair back as the image made no reply, just staring at him silently. "You were supposed to do it! You were supposed to mock me to the very end!" he screamed. "You were supposed to live! To grow up, you stupid little bean!" His voice was breaking, cracking under the strain the screaming put on his vocal cords.

"You little shit," he whispered, the first steps of hoarseness colouring the words. "You stupid, pathetic, short little shit." he whispered and struck out, glass shattering with crystalline sounds as Edward's picture slammed into the wall, mixing with the remains of the whiskey bottle.

He sunk basic down into his chair, face resting in the palms of his hand as his shoulder's shook. But instead of tears, laughter escaped, a cold, high, ragged laughter that made the flames in the fireplace dance, as if they were worried for their master's sanity. But his sanity was long gone, the ghosts of the past finally consuming him, tearing apart a mind held together with duct tape and luck.

The laughter cut away abruptly as Roy lifted his head, blinking, staring unseeing across his office. The movements were sudden, jerky as he stood again, sending his chair spinning away. He grabbed his coat, walking quickly as he slammed his office door, heading towards a rarely used laboratory, one that had been locked up and sealed, not intended to be used again.

It would take a while to find it…it might not even be there, Al would have cleared them out...but maybe…just maybe….

Roy's maddening laughter echoed after him, ringing in the dead and silent halls. "You will dance again!"

The sun was shining, hot, bright and brilliant, the day the Colonel returned to the earth. Hawkeye knelt next to the grave, pruning a small rosebush that has been planted, Black Hayate dancing around, chasing butterflies.

Al creaked slightly as he handed her a watering can, before returning to his task of clearing the vines that were trying to claim the headstone. He must have over done something in the Array but the climbing flowers were beautiful anyway…when they weren't attempting to strangle the marble.

Hawkeye leaned back on her legs and examined the plot, a small smile covering her face before standing and brushing off her hands. She traced her fingers over the lettering, laughing softly.

Al looked up, confused as to why the woman was laughing and she shook her head. "Even in death, they couldn't' escape each other."

Al laughed himself and picked up the dog who was trying to go back to the butterflies, following Hawkeye as they headed for the car, Winry waving to them from the drivers seat she was sitting in.

The sunlight glittered off the freshly polished marble, reflecting it's rays, shadowing the words carved deep into the stone.

_Major Edward Elric  
__National Alchemist, Full Metal Alchemist  
__Died serving the people_

_Colonel Roy Mustang  
National Alchemist, Flame Alchemist_  
_Died for friendship_


End file.
